White Fire and Black Ice
by Lady Whight
Summary: Gandalf does not go to the West with the Elves, but stays on Middle Earth till the time for wizards has come again. When he comes back into society, he meets Minerva McGonagall ...and the rest you must read inside...
1. Prologue

White Fire, Black Ice  
  
.  
  
Prologue  
  
He did not board any of the elven boats that would have carried him over the grey seas and to the West. Before they departed, he gave the elves Narya, the third great Ring, which he had kept for many years, and he stood with Sam and Merry and Pippin to watch the ships bear away Elrond, Galadriel and Frodo, and a great sadness crept into his heart.  
  
Yet, he knew he had chosen rightly. Wonderful things and even more wonderful knowledge lay in the West, but he knew in his wisdom, that if he went west to learn all the knowledge, he would never be able to return to Middle Earth and apply it. So he had shaken his head when Elrond had asked him to leave with him and he had made the three hobbits who knew of his existence swear to never reveal his continued existence in Middle Earth. For the Third Age had come to an end, and the Fourth Age was destined to be without the influence of wizards and elves, and to be fully in the hands of men instead.  
  
Mithrandir, however, knew that in a much later age, there would be wizards again, so much he had glimpsed during his battle with the Balrog which had carried him through many ages and yet had only lasted a few weeks. The one short glance had sufficed to make up his mind. He would wait till the time arrived when wizards once again lived in great numbers on this world.  
  
So, at his request, Samwise Gamgee wrote of Gandalf's parting with Frodo over the seas and to the West, while the wizard himself rode straight east to the Misty Mountains, to the entrance to Moira. He knew now of the foul beast lying in the depths of the water before it, but it did not matter to him. He got off his steed and gave it a grave farewell, then along the borders of the water he went and to the gate the dwarves had wrought many years ago.  
  
(A/N: In the book version, the beast doesn't destroy the entrance, but slams the door shut behind the Fellowship.)  
  
'Mellon' he said, quietly, and the gate opened to let him in. Stepping inside, he muttered the spell that woke the light of his staff and walked along the dark passages to the great throne room of the dwarves. There he sat himself on the throne and waited. He waited, till all memory of Moira had dissolved to nothingness and the elves and he had turned into mere spectres of remembrances.  
  
He waited, while the wind and water carried away the Misty Mountains and the glaciers had ground the stone to sand. He waited, while he and Moira slowly sank into the depths of the earth and the mountains above him crumbled till they were no more than hills. He waited, feeling the seasons go past like so many seconds, and the world above changed so completely that it no longer could bear its old name. It was now no longer Middle Earth, it was Earth, and on its surface their lived humans, for the most part.  
  
There were only very few trolls left, and witches and wizards, who lived in a secret world of their own that existed within the world of men. In place of staffs they now had wands to focus their energy, and with them they had enlarged the small lake in which the Guardian of Moria had lived in all the previous millennia, and had scourged it from evil, till the Guardian forgot the darkness and now, without evil goading him, the squid did what was in its nature: Eat fish and sleep. It even tolerated the mermen and -women who had joined it to live in the lake permanently.  
  
On the small hill which had once been the mountain Caradhras, but which had been gnawed mercilessly by the tooth of time and now was just a small rise of land, there now stood a many-turreted castle, the great wizarding school of Great Britain, called the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
The magic of Hogwarts seeped slowly downwards, through layers of stone born an eternity ago. The age old earth absorbed the young magic slowly, but time worked for the magic, and every year it delved an inch further, till it had crept through the ceiling of a great hall wrought by dwarves uncountable years ago. In soft tendrils, like invisible filaments of the lightest cobweb, they wafted through the stale air till they reached the wizard, to tingle him out of his eons-old sleep.  
  
Mithrandir had become like the stone around him in his long, long sleep. His beard and hair had grown till it reached to the farthest corners of the dwarven hall and his skin had turned grey and cold in the dark beneath the earth. His nails on toes and fingers had grown, too, curling themselves like nets around his hands, protecting them, and his moulded robes would fall to tiny bits as soon as he moved. 


	2. The Lady of the Castle

The Lady of the Castle  
  
The wizard's eyes opened ever so slowly, but the darkness that met him was no different from that which met him when his eyes were closed. Out of a mind, which had rested longer than most other brains might exist, he endeavoured to draw out the one spell he needed before all others. Slowly, his mind took up the work it had laid down many a year ago, till it finally produced the words the old wizard needed.  
  
The eyelids dropped shut, so as to shield the pupils behind them from the first onslaught of the magical light that would soon be summoned, and the lips opened slightly, the parched tongue was drawn swiftly over them, as a preparation for the words that would follow soon after, and with a voice that was hoarse and rough after having slept so long, Gandalf said the words he needed to say.  
  
'Naur an edraith ammen!'  
  
At once, gleaming white light sprang forth from his staff and shone strong and pure in the heavy dark. It pierced through Gandalf's thin eyelids and urged his pupils to contract, yet when the wizard opened his eyes fully, they still could hardly bear the blinding light. He did not let that faze him, however, but with a wave of his staff he woke the power within him and renewed his robes and cloak. Another wave, and his appearance was no longer that of long nails and hair, but of trimmed nails and a beard and hair that reached only to his middle.  
  
During his wait, his strength had not grown dimmer, but had increased and intensified, giving him a power, he had never, to this moment, ever felt before. He closed his eyes and felt with his magic to find out where he was. Deep bellow him; he could feel the hot core of the earth, scalding bubbles of gas rising upwards from it, floating through a seething mass of melted stone. Far above him, there was magic, magic in its rawest form and magic so changed and converted, it must have been transformed by an artist.  
  
He felt the people, all of them with magic powers, big or small and many other magical creatures he could not wait to get to know. It was time to join the living again, and suddenly the joy of the moment broke forth in his heart and he chuckled wholeheartedly. He had missed company.  
  
His journey was a swift one. With his magical senses spreading out around him, he found a way amongst and along the cracks and tunnels of the earth and if necessary, he could also blast himself a passage through solid rock. He did the latter sparingly, however, so as not to disturb the balance of forces reigning underground.  
  
Finally, he arrived through a crack in the rock in a cave which was partly under water. To his left, a tunnel led outside, ivy hung over the opening. To his right, he could see a little harbour with rowing boats without oars and opposite the water was a great wooden door. It was not in Gandalf's nature to hesitate. With quick steps, that thoroughly belied his age, he walked briskly up to the door and opened it with a spell.  
  
No sooner had he done so, when he felt many presences quickly approaching his location. The first to appear was a ghost of a plump man in a robe tied together around his waist with a rope and a circle of hair round his head. With an upraised hand holding a small stick, it hovered before him menacingly.  
  
'Stay where you are, intruder!' It bellowed with a fierce face.  
  
It was joined by two other ghosts now, then a fourth, all of them raising a hand in the air which bore a stick. Mithrandir did not doubt that these sticks fulfilled the function his staff did for him, and he did not choose to ignore their danger. Furthermore, he knew that he might win a battle against the ghosts, but he could not know if he would be able to win a battle against all occupants of this place, nor did he wish to fight against them. After all, he had not waited so long for a community of wizards to form to then antagonise them!  
  
So he nodded gravely and stood still, leaning comfortably on his staff. A very tiny man entered, and Gandalf fought a smile, for he was reminded of the hobbits. The small man brandished a stick, too, and in a high and breathless voice he cried:  
  
'Do not move or I will have to stupefy you!'  
  
Again Gandalf nodded. He did not exactly know what to stupefy was, but he guessed it must be some charm which was aimed to make a person unable to fight. Next, a tall, beak nosed man with sallow skin and shoulder length hair entered. All on him except his pallid skin was black, and his frown was even blacker. Gandalf felt at once that this man was well acquainted with the dark side of magic. On his heels followed a squat woman with a pink bow in her thin hair, bulging eyes and an air of self-importance about her. Her stubby fingers shook, while she held her focussing stick in front of her.  
  
A second later, a tall woman in green robes entered, too. Her hair was drawn back in a tight bun and her face wore a stern expression. Her mouth was a line of grim determination and her eyes glittered like chips of black ice, as she briskly stepped into the middle of the room to face him. It was her, for whom he had waited. His magical senses had long since told him who of those approaching him was the most powerful, and it was her. He surmised that she must be their leader, for it had been that way in his time, and the thought that it might be different in this time did not cross his mind. He bowed his head before the straight backed witch.  
  
'Greetings to you, Lady of this castle', he said, causing a murmur to arise and a raised eyebrow from the witch he was addressing, 'Please excuse my sudden entry, which I see has caused great alarm, and let me introduce myself. I am Gandalf the White, servant of the Secret Fire and wielder of the flame of Anor...'  
  
He was interrupted by a surreptious little cough of the ugly woman with the pink bow. 'Hem, hem', she coughed, and Gandalf looked up, to see the black wizard sneering wickedly and the tiny one struggling to keep the glee out of his mien, while the witch he had been addressing turned to the smaller woman reluctantly. The latter spoke now with a high, breathy voice.  
  
'Professor McGonagall is not the Lady of this castle, Mr. Gandalf; she is deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. I am its headmistress and as such it is my business to deal with you.' She said, with a special emphasis on the word 'my'.  
  
At this, Professor McGonagall spoke for the first time. Her voice was clear and just as stern as her bearing. It had a lilt to it that was similar to that of the hobbits living in Brandy Hall. 'In that case, Dolores, we will no longer disturb you and let you handle your business.' With that, she swept off, not even bothering to guard her back from Gandalf. He soon knew why, however: The wizards and the ghosts watched her back for her.  
  
The lips of the witch called Dolores quivered, but she did not say a word of protest, as the rest of the party disappeared through the doors leading further into the castle. At first, Gandalf wondered why he, whom they had regarded as a great threat, was now left alone with this weak witch, but he noticed soon afterwards, that the others hadn't really left, but were in a near room, ready to stop his advance if needed.  
  
What was their plan? Did the witch before him know the others were still about? He thought she didn't. Her nervousness was palpable and he had felt only disgust or evil glee towards her from her companions. Again she coughed.  
  
'Hem, hem, Mr.Gandalf, you have broken through the wards surrounding Hogwarts, which is a major offence, if I may say so, and I will of course notify the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible. It is clear that you must have used dark magic to break into Hogwarts and for that, too, you will be punished.' The thought seemed to please her immensely, and her voice grew even breathier as she continued. 'As for the cheek of taking on false and pretentious titles, that will cost you even more.'  
  
She raised her stick and waved it at him, crying 'petrificus totalus!' Gandalf had anticipated the attack and summoned the power of the Secret Fire to shield him from her attack, and her spell, which had sprung from her the tip of the stick she held, bounced off the shield and diagonally up to the ceiling. Frightened, the squat woman stared at him with eyes that reminded him more and more of Sméagol, then she raised her arm again and sent the same spell at him again and again.  
  
'Petrificus totalus! Petrificus totalus! Petrificus totalus! Petrificus totalus! Petrificus totalus! Petri...'  
  
Gandalf smiled at her benignly. He was now sure that she was no danger to him, but he wondered about the others. Still, they did not interfere, but hovered in the background, obviously making sure that he did not just overrun the witch opposite him and go further into the castle. He had to admit the situation humoured him. If there was one thing that was sure, then it was that the people in this castle were an interesting lot. Time to get to know them all.  
  
Calmly, he cut through the flow of 'Petrificus totalus' that streamed from the witch's mouth. 'Madam, this will lead us nowhere. My shield is too powerful for your spells. Could we not discuss the situation, instead? No doubt you can explain to me what exactly the offence is that I seem to have committed, for I myself do not know at all.'  
  
The witch refused to listen, but at least she stopped casting her weak spells. Instead, she aimed the stick towards her throat and muttered 'sonorus'. A moment later, her voice bellowed loudly through the rooms of the castle.  
  
'MINERVA, SEVERUS, FILIUS, I REQUEST YOU BE AT THE CAVE HARBOUR AT ONCE!'  
  
The way those summoned interpreted the words 'at once' was very interesting. The witch might just as well have said 'take your time'. They appeared at the door together, all of them straight faced, though the small wizard obviously fought for his composure. Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed together in a very thin line, and that of the black wizard held the hint of a sneer.  
  
'What is it, Dolores?' Asked Professor McGonagall, her tone just barely civil.  
  
'He -he is a freak! My petrifying spell has no effect on him!' The goggle- eyed witch wailed.  
  
'That his shield is stronger than your spells seems to me no proof that he is a -freak.' Professor McGonagall said coolly. 'It merely proves that Mr.Gandalf IS a very powerful wizard and shows that it is possible that he may actually have gotten through the wards of Hogwarts all on his own. And if that is the case, I don't see how we could hinder him from doing it again, or breaking out of a Ministry Prison, for that matter.' She turned to Gandalf now and addressed him. 'Mr.Gandalf, are you aware of the fact that this castle is the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?'  
  
'I was not aware of the fact.' Gandalf answered. 'I was without contact to the world for a long, long time and I cannot remember having heard the name of Hogwarts before today.'  
  
'Of course', the witch answered, but Gandalf was not sure if she really believed him. Instead of inquiring further, she introduced him to everyone present, including the ghosts. 'This is Professor Dolores Umbridge, Headmistress of Hogwarts and Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Filius Flitwick, Charms Professor and Head of Ravenclaw, Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin, the Bloody Baron, Houseghost of Slytherin, Sir Nicholas the Mimsy-Porpington, Houseghost of Gryffindor, Friar Fredericus, Houseghost of Hufflepuff, and Sir Archibald Erkledown, Houseghost of Ravenclaw. I am Minerva McGonagall, Transfigurations teacher and Head of Gryffindor.'  
  
Gandalf bowed his head in greeting to every one of the people and ghosts. Umbridge eyed him suspiciously, Flitwick nodded back cheerfully, Snape sneered, the Bloody Baron did not react, Sir Nicholas nodded nervously, the Friar gave him a friendly wave, Sir Archibald nodded coolly, and McGonagall gave him a crisp smile and a brisk nod. She seemed very much in charge and Gandalf wondered why Dolores Umbridge was considered her superior.  
  
'Hem, hem.' Umbridge coughed. McGonagall ignored her.  
  
'How long have you been out of things?' She asked Gandalf.  
  
'Since the end of the Third Age of Middle Earth.' He answered truthfully. Her eyebrows twitched upwards.  
  
Another 'hem, hem' was ignored.  
  
'Neither 'Third Age' nor 'Middle Earth' have ever existed to my knowledge.' She admitted. 'Currently, you are in Great Britain.'  
  
'Do you not call your world Middle Earth?'  
  
As those before, the next 'hem, hem' was ignored. 'We choose to call our world the Earth, Mr.Gandalf, but surely, you must have been aware of that. Why are you here?'  
  
'Hem, HEM!'  
  
McGonagall turned to Snape. 'Severus, Dolores seems to have caught an unpleasant cold. I hope you have some more of your Pepper-up potion, I'm sure it would do her cold a lot of good.'  
  
But Umbridge was not to be turned down so easily. Pointedly ignoring that Gandalf had talked to them like any person, she said: 'Minerva, surely this is inappropriate. The creature must be put somewhere where it can do no harm to the students at once. There is no time for idle dilly-dallying.'  
  
'I quite see why you think so, Dolores. Where do you propose we put Mr.Gandalf and how do you think we could get him there?' McGonagall asked sweetly.  
  
This silenced Umbridge effectively for another minute, in which McGonagall asked about the Secret Fire and the flame of Anor. Gandalf had just enough time to tell her one or two basics, before Umbridge interrupted again.  
  
'Hem, hem. I have an even better plan, my dear colleague! Stay here and talk to it, while I summon a Dementor to us. It will take care of it.'  
  
In the other witch's eyes there now appeared an expression so horrified, that Gandalf was reminded of the terror-stricken stares the Ringwraiths had caused in Middle Earth. The temperature of the cave had sunken at the mere mentioning of the word 'Dementor' and everyone but Umbridge seemed uncomfortable, though not actually afraid. Was there a way you could chase away Dementors?  
  
'What are Dementors?' He asked, wanting to know what lot awaited him.  
  
'Soulless creatures that drain away all thoughts and feelings of happiness and warmth and feed on the misery and terror of the drained people. And if you are administered the Dementor's Kiss, your soul is taken from you for ever, and all that is left behind is its shell, the body, unfeeling and empty.' Flitwick answered, looking troubled.  
  
'The remedy to the bad feeling caused by a Dementor's presence is chocolate and the creatures can be chased away by a 'Patronus' charm.' McGonagall added.  
  
The Dementors sounded a lot like the Ringwraiths, Gandalf thought. The flame of Anor had stood him in good steed against the Witch-kings; he expected that it would also fend off the Dementors. 


	3. The Intruder

The Intruder  
  
Minerva McGonagall noticed the intrusion at once. Someone had circumvented the wards of Hogwarts and now stood in the little cave harbour, to which the first years were usually led on their first day of school. At once, the deputy headmistress left her rooms and swiftly proceeded along the many corridors of the castle, wand at the ready.  
  
She saw Severus and Umbridge enter just before she herself reached the door to the room where the intruder was. A ghost of each of the four houses was present: The Baron, Nearly Headless Nick, the Fat Friar and Sir Erkledown. Filius was there, too, and all had their wand at the ready, facing the person who had managed to get through the wards of Hogwarts.  
  
Minerva noted his waist long, white hair and beard, which was very much like that of Albus Dumbledore, and the whiter than white robes that gleamed from beneath his dark grey cloak. The wizard leaned on a staff and watched the crowd with mild curiosity. The power he radiated was immense, but all the same Minerva did not feel threatened. There was nothing evil or ruthless in his bearing, nothing to give her the same sense of threat as did Dementors or Deatheaters.  
  
Umbridge (looking her best with a cute pink bow in her hair) did not seem to have taken charge. She was snivelling in Severus' wake, holding her wand in a trembling hand. Well, if the headmistress did not choose to confront the intruder, her deputy would have to do so. Without hesitating, Minerva stepped up to the powerful wizard and as she met his eyes, she was impressed by the wisdom and power she saw there. He gave a little bow in her direction and spoke to her in a slightly rough voice.  
  
'Greetings to you, Lady of this castle', here Minerva's eyebrow shot up in surprise, 'Please excuse my sudden entry, which I see has caused great alarm, and let me introduce myself. I am Gandalf the White, servant of the Secret Fire and wielder of the flame of Anor...'  
  
He was interrupted by Umbridge who chose this opportunity to give that hateful little cough of hers: 'Hem, hem.' Minerva was aware of Filius' satisfaction that the wizard had overlooked Umbridge in favour of herself, while Severus showed his own wicked pleasure with a sneer. The wizard Gandalf turned towards Umbridge, and Minerva did so, too, reluctantly. Soon after, Umbridge's high and penetrating voice permeated the little room.  
  
'Professor McGonagall is not the Lady of this castle, Mr. Gandalf; she is deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. I am its headmistress and as such it is my business to deal with you.' She said, and Minerva at once noticed the special emphasis she put on the word 'my'.  
  
This was a wonderful opportunity to give the would-be-headmistress some trouble and Minerva did not let it pass her by. 'In that case, Dolores, we will no longer disturb you and let you handle your business.' She said and she swept off, trusting everyone but Umbridge to guard her back. Severus, Filius and the ghosts followed her outside and into the room after the next. There they stayed, in case the strange wizard chose to get out of Umbridge's company and further inside the castle.  
  
'He is no Deatheater.' Severus told them, putting his wand back inside his sleeve.  
  
'But he's very powerful.' Filius added. 'Our dear headmistress stands no chance against him.  
  
'If he is no Deatheater, what could be the reason for his intrusion?' Minerva asked, furrowing her brow. 'Did you see how pale he was? As if he hadn't seen the sun for decades.'  
  
'Just like Severus.' Filius chuckled.  
  
Snape scowled and did not deign to answer. He turned to Minerva. 'Do you know what the Secret Fire or the flame of Anor are?'  
  
She shook her head. 'No, but I will ask him as soon as I have the possibility to do so. And maybe we can find some information in the library.'  
  
Just then Umbridge's voice, obviously amplified by a 'sonorus' charm boomed through the rooms: 'MINERVA, SEVERUS, FILIUS, I REQUEST YOU BE AT THE CAVE HARBOUR AT ONCE!'  
  
'At once be damned!' Severus muttered.  
  
He voiced the thoughts of all three of the professors, who now started to stroll leisurely towards Umbridge and Gandalf. They appeared at the door together, Filius struggling for his composure, Severus showing his contempt for Umbridge's helplessness and Minerva the only one who managed to keep her features neutral.  
  
'What is it, Dolores?' She asked crisply.  
  
Umbridge wore a terrified look in her eyes and pointed a trembling finger at Gandalf 'He -he is a freak! My petrifying spell has no effect on him!' She wailed.  
  
'That his shield is stronger than your spells seems to me no proof that he is a -freak.' Professor McGonagall said coolly, wondering if Umbridge knew how pathetic she was. 'It merely proves that Mr.Gandalf IS a very powerful wizard and shows that it is possible that he may actually have gotten through the wards of Hogwarts all on his own. And if that is the case, I don't see how we could hinder him from doing it again, or breaking out of a Ministry Prison, for that matter.' Then she addressed Gandalf, who was still comfortably leaning on his staff. 'Mr.Gandalf, are you aware of the fact that this castle is the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?'  
  
'I was not aware of the fact.' He replied. 'I was without contact to the world for a long, long time and I cannot remember having heard the name of Hogwarts before today.'  
  
'Of course', Minerva answered, not quite sure if she should believe him, but willing to let the matter slip for the moment. She didn't comment his reply, but introduced him to those present, including the ghosts who had followed Filius, Severus and herself all the while. Gandalf greeted everyone with a friendly bow of his head, which was answered by everyone according to their predispositions.  
  
Umbridge then chose to voice another of her coughs. 'Hem, hem.'  
  
Minerva pointedly ignored her and asked Gandalf a question instead. 'How long have you been out of things?'  
  
'Since the end of the Third Age of Middle Earth.' He answered cryptically and caused her to shoot him a quizzical glance, all the while ignoring another 'hem, hem'.  
  
'Neither 'Third Age' nor 'Middle Earth' have ever existed to my knowledge.' She told him and added some information. 'Currently, you are in Great Britain.'  
  
'Do you not call your world Middle Earth?' He asked, only slightly puzzled.  
  
Purposely overhearing Umbridge's third 'hem, hem', Minerva answered Gandalf's question. 'We choose to call our world the Earth, Mr.Gandalf, but surely, you must have been aware of that. Why are you here?' She added, asking the important question.  
  
'Hem, HEM!'  
  
This time Minerva did not ignore the cough. She turned to the Potions Master. 'Severus, Dolores seems to have caught an unpleasant cold. I hope you have some more of your Pepper-up potion, I'm sure it would do her cold a lot of good.'  
  
Umbridge, however, did not even react to the bait, but addressed Minerva at once. 'Minerva, surely this is inappropriate. The creature must be put somewhere where it can do no harm to the students at once. There is no time for idle dilly-dallying.'  
  
'I quite see why you think so, Dolores. Where do you propose we put Mr.Gandalf and how do you think we could get him there?' Minerva asked sweetly, successfully controlling the urge to roll her eyes.  
  
The other witch did not have a ready answer to this and Minerva took the chance to ask Gandalf what the Secret Fire and the flame of Anor were. She soon found out that Anor meant sun and that Gandalf had a special affinity to fire, but before she could learn more, Umbridge interrupted them again.  
  
'Hem, hem. I have an even better plan, my dear colleague! Stay here and talk to it, while I summon a Dementor to us. It will take care of it.' She said with her flutey voice and smiled gleefully.  
  
It was beyond Minerva how Umbridge could ignore the danger the Dementors presented and how she could talk of using them for her purposes with such confidence. I was like the proverbial child playing with matches, Minerva decided, and steeled herself to be ready to cast a 'Patronus' if need be. Severus and Filius did the same, Minerva could actually see them straightening up and concentrating in anticipation of the Dementors, while Umbridge went on smiling in blissful ignorance. Minerva gritted her teeth. If Albus had been in charge, there would not even have been the question of summoning a Dementor.  
  
She was pulled out of her thoughts when Gandalf asked: 'What are Dementors?'  
  
Filius answered the question, he looked as troubled as Minerva felt. 'Soulless creatures that drain away all thoughts and feelings of happiness and warmth and feed on the misery and terror of the drained people. And if you are administered the Dementor's Kiss, your soul is taken from you for ever, and all that is left behind is its shell, the body, unfeeling and empty.'  
  
'The remedy to a Dementor's presence is chocolate and the creatures can be chased away by a 'Patronus' charm.' Added Minerva, hoping that no such remedy would be necessary. 


	4. The Dementors

The Dementors  
  
Mithrandir registered how all present but the one called Umbridge steeled themselves for the encounter with the Dementor. Umbridge, who had waved her stick in the air to summon the Dementor, smiled, seemingly pleased with herself. She did not appear to notice the disapproval that radiated from the others.  
  
Soon after, two shapes appeared at the entrance of the little room. They were tall, and cloaked from head to foot, hoods covering their faces. Not one, but two Dementors had responded to Umbridge's summons and now slid over to the group of people, bringing with them a sense of great dread and cold. At once, Gandalf felt for his connection to Anor and drew strength from her, just enough to ward off the unpleasant feelings the Dementors evoked in him.  
  
The others in the room had no such link and had to fight off the effects with their will power alone. The black wizard seemed especially bad off (though he stayed absolutely calm on the outside), which was no surprise to Gandalf. Those who had dealt with the Dark side were sure to have bad memories that would affect them in the presence of creatures like the Dementors. Minerva McGonagall, who was in admirable control of her emotions, spoke in a very disapproving voice.  
  
'That is quite enough. As you well know, you are not to drain us. If this continues, I will summon my Patronus.'  
  
The coldness vanished and Gandalf no longer needed the help of Anor to fend off unpleasant emotions. In fact, the whole room seemed to sigh of relief, even Umbridge seemed glad that Minerva McGonagall had taken charge of the two Dementors. Now she stepped up to stand beside the stern woman and talk to the cloaked Dementors, swelling and puffing with importance.  
  
'You are to watch this suspect here.' She said with her inimitable air of self-importance.  
  
The Dementors nodded, their hoods having turned towards Gandalf as if to inspect him. One of them breathed in with a sucking sound, drawing warmth out of the aged wizard's heart, but he did not waver. Anor was with him, the Secret Fire gave him ample strength, and no Dementor would ever be powerful enough to harm his soul. He raised his arm to send a bolt of power against the creature, which would weaken it, but there was no need.  
  
Minerva McGonagall had already raised her stick and shouted 'Expecto Patronum!' From the tip of the stick, a misty form emerged, taking the form of a big cat whose head reached to Gandalf's waist. 'I said I would have no more of your draining.' Minerva McGonagall said firmly, while the cat stood at her side, baring its fangs at the Dementors.  
  
They backed away, clearly afraid of the cat. Gandalf was impressed. He knew a protection charm if he saw one, and this one was especially powerful. Not everyone could summon such a -what had she called it? - Patronus, and even fewer people could control it so that it waited till they sent it towards the danger they had to avert.  
  
Umbridge intervened, flustered. 'Now, now, Minerva, there is no need to be so upset. I am sure they meant no harm.' -Someone of those present snorted at that, but when Umbridge looked around sharply, she could not detect the culprit. Choosing to ignore the interruption, she went on, 'The Dementors will follow my orders and will not harm the creature I have put in their charge.'  
  
'They had better.' Minerva McGonagall said sternly, and the Dementors bowed their heads to her and stopped trying to drain Gandalf at once, clearly anxious to convince her that they would do as she wished, so great was their fear of the Patronus. At that, she nodded and gave a wave with her wand. The cat dissolved into thin air.  
  
'Do not harm the prisoner and take him to Azkaban. Tell the authorities that this creature broke through the wards of Hogwarts and that it is of greatest importance that he be watched closely, or he might break out of Azkaban.' Dolores Umbridge ordered in her flutey voice, batting her eyelashes in an excited way. Mithrandir wondered once again, why she and not Minerva McGonagall was the headmistress of Hogwarts.  
  
He saw the stern witch purse her lips and exchange an exasperated glance with the little man called Flitwick. It was clear that she could not intervene. Quickly, for he needed some information about this world before he went, he asked her the first of many questions that went round in his head.  
  
'What do you call these?' He said, waving at the sticks they all still held in their hands, 'What is Azkaban and are all Patronuses in the form of a cat?'  
  
'Why, these are our wands!' Filius Flitwick exclaimed, very astonished at the question. Then he added, his voice turning very serious all of a sudden. 'Azkaban is a prison guarded by Dementors.'  
  
Gandalf nodded. He doubted that Azkaban could be worse than his battle with the Balrog and knew he would manage. He wanted to insist that his last question be answered, but before he could do so, the Dementors slid on either side of him and put scabby hands, that looked like they had lain dead in the water for quite some time, on his arms and pulled him though the doorway and further into the castle.  
  
He had just enough time to say Farewell to the witches, wizards and ghosts present, then they were out of his sight, as he followed the lead of the Dementors. It would have been very easy to escape out of their slimy grip, but he was not yet sure if he wanted to. If he freed himself while they were still inside the castle, he might induce its guardians to attack him. The witch McGonagall had said it was a school, and he did not doubt that she and the other teachers would do everything to keep him from harming the students.  
  
No, he would not escape as long as he was in the castle. He would wait till he was outside, or maybe he would not do so even then. Perhaps it was better to play along for a while and see how the guards of Azkaban dealt with him. 


	5. St Mungo

St. Mungo  
  
Minerva McGonagall had no time to muse about the strange wizard that had ambled into Hogwarts as if doing so was the easiest thing on earth. She did bother about the fact that he had been able to break the wards, but her day was so busy that she just could not do anything about it. Only after curfew, when all the students were off to bed and only those taking their OWLs in Astronomy were still up, doing their best at the exam, did she have time to contemplate the events of the afternoon.  
  
Who was the white-haired wizard?, she wondered, stepping up to her window and staring into the cool night. How come he had appeared so suddenly at Hogwarts? Why didn't she know of him? He was very powerful, at least as powerful as Dumbledore, and yet he was not known in the wizarding community. Where had he come from?  
  
She regretted the fact that she had not had enough time to talk to him and find out more. It was a shame that he had been brought to Azkaban, and that he didn't just escape -he certainly had the powers to enable him to do so- was a puzzle to her. Just then, she noticed a group of six people approaching Hagrid's cabin, and her thoughts were drawn away from Gandalf to the more urgent question of what was going on at Hagrid's cabin.  
  
Something told her that those people were up to no good, but she hesitated to intervene before she knew more. Just then, the door to the hut burst open to a loud BANG and Minerva could hear Hagrid roar with anger, as he brandished his fists at the six people surrounding him and sending stunners at him.  
  
In a flash, Minerva was at her door and through it. She hastened along the corridors of Hogwarts, indignation and outrage coursing through her. How dare they attack Hagrid like that? How dare they creep into Hogwarts like thieves in the dark, to take Hagrid from under her nose? Her anger mounted as she flew threw the hallways and down the stairs of the castle, till she finally reached the Entrance Hall.  
  
A few brisk steps, and she was at the door, a great push, and she had flung open the doors and was hurrying over the grounds towards the fight. Someone of the six attackers had stunned Fang, which must have enraged Hagrid even further. He had already sent one of the attackers sprawling and was taking care of another, when Minerva was finally near enough to shout.  
  
'How DARE you?' She exclaimed, feeling as angry as Hagrid looked. 'On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such- '  
  
Too late did she realise what the four men were up to, too late did she reach for her wand to cast a shielding spell, too late did she try to dodge the four red stunning spells they sent her way. The spells hit her just as she curled her fingers around her wand.  
  
Searing pain shot through her body, the impact of the four bolts making her heart shudder. Her mind had just enough time to register that her skin glowed an eerie red and that she was falling backwards, then all went blank as darkness claimed her.  
  
-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-  
  
She drifted through queer dreams. Once she saw Fawkes, crying. She wondered why, nobody was hurt, were they? Crisp cloth brushed her cheek and firm hands felt for the veins at her wrist, a moment later, they were gone and she drifted in a sea of black. She heard Albus' voice: 'Hogwarts needs you!' Why was she here, then? She struggled to somehow leave, to get away from that place and go back to Hogwarts, but the darkness pressed her downwards, hindering her from moving.  
  
Paralysed as she was, she could not dodge the four red bolts that streaked through the darkness towards her. In the distance, she could hear Hagrid roar angrily, but she herself could not utter a sound. The four bolts hit her like hammers strike an anvil and sent a burning ache through her, but she could not even curl herself up to hug herself in her pain, as the blackness around her bound her immobile.  
  
Then, very far ahead, she saw a pinprick of bright light. The white spot grew, coming nearer and nearer to her, till it enveloped her completely, dazzling her. Gandalf's voice reached her ear. 'The Secret Fire', he said. Already, the light was fading again, and she fell back into the overpowering darkness. She faintly heard someone say, '-wounds are healing, but it'll take awhile for-' then all went blank.  
  
-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-  
  
She awoke to a dull pain in her chest. Breathing was difficult; Bandages wound firmly around her upper body confined her. Again she felt the clean, rough cloth on her cheek, and when she opened her eyes she at once realised where she was. Only St. Mungo had such white walls and clean floors, and only St. Mungo had such white linen for the beds and such blank walls.  
  
Minerva sighed. She was well aware of what had happened. Through her great carelessness, she had let the men who had gone to Hogwarts to get Hagrid stun her with four stunners. She had let her impulsive side get control and had run straight into danger, without bothering for her security. And what had she achieved? She had not helped Hagrid a mite and had gotten herself into St. Mungo.  
  
That must have left Umbridge in even more control than before. Minerva grimly wished that Peeves had created havoc for all he was worth. She could not help but get angry just thinking of Dolores Umbridge, with her pink bows, fake curls, bulging eyes and phoney smile, and ground her teeth. As she thought of Umbridge, she inevitably remembered the last time she had had to deal with the flabby woman before being stunned.  
  
They had all gone to the cave harbour to face the wizard who had managed to break through the wards of Hogwarts without even the semblance of having problems. The wizard who had been cloaked in a robe so white it dazzled the eyes and with blue eyes that held more wisdom and power than even those of Albus Dumbledore. They had twinkled in amusement, now and then, as he had watched them deal with him. Minerva was quite sure that he had realised at once that Umbridge was not accepted as the headmistress and also that she was not really up to the job.  
  
He had called Minerva the 'Lady of the Castle'. She smiled inwardly at the memory. How Dolores Umbridge had huffed and puffed! She had been so indignant that the stranger had actually picked Minerva and not herself. It was a pity that Minerva had not made a picture of Umbridge's face. It would have been a source of great enjoyment in the staff room later on.  
  
The door to her room opened and a nurse in white robes entered. It was very clean and spotless, yet it seemed to Minerva it did not match the whiteness Gandalf's robe had had. The round face beneath the white nurse's cap beamed.  
  
'So you have finally come to, Professor McGonagall! My name is Anne, by the way. I can tell you, you had us worried for a while, with all your tossing and turning and high temperature. It is a relief to see you are no longer unconscious. How are you feeling at the moment?'  
  
'I'm fine.' Minerva croaked, her parched mouth and dried out throat making it impossible to speak smoothly.  
  
The nurse filled a glass of water and handed it to her in no time, saying: 'you must be terribly thirsty, Professor, and hungry, too. Shall I get you something to eat?'  
  
'That would be splendid.' Minerva replied, feeling much better already and growing very aware of how empty her stomach felt. 'I could do with something solid.'  
  
Anna's face broke into another broad smile. 'Wonderful! I'll get you a meal at once, I'll be back in a moment.'  
  
With that, she left the room with a lively step, leaving Minerva to lie back for a while and recover from the conversation that had been surprisingly exhausting. She had not lain there longer than five minutes, when Anna was back already, complete with a tray crammed with good food and it was not long before Minerva tucked in contentedly, making up for the many meals she'd missed after her accident. 


	6. Azkaban

Azkaban  
  
Azkaban was a dark place, the Dementors allowed no happiness or light to grow inside the keep, quenching the little flames of hope in the prisoners' eyes and filling them with despair instead. Great sadness gripped Gandalf's heart, as his gaze met the blank stares of the witches and wizards. Underneath the despair there lingered an even worse feeling of hatred. The black hearts of the prisoners beat slowly on, waiting, waiting for the day they were set free and could get their revenge.  
  
Three days he waited, the aged wizard guarding his cell giving him his meals through a little flap at the bottom of the door. He had been informed at his entrance into the keep that it would take a few days for the Ministry to decide what to do with him. When he asked if he could contact the Ministry, his request had been denied him. Curious as to what the Ministry would decide, he let himself be kept inside the cell, till he was marched off into a little bare office.  
  
The young, stiff-lipped wizard in dark grey robes who sat behind the rickety little desk of the office read the sentence of the Ministry to him with a dull and emotionless voice. The Ministry informed Gandalf that as he had broken into Hogwarts he had been sentenced to four years in Azkaban and a life under constant surveillance through the Ministry. He was denied the right to raise a protest and only allowed one visitor per year.  
  
That was the moment when Gandalf decided that his time at Azkaban was definitely over. With a move of his staff, he hurled everybody and everything within six feet distance to him to the ground. The doors between him and the outside slammed open at a wave of his hand, approaching guards were flung backwards as he pointed his forefinger at them, and after a very short while, he was off, to never set foot into Azkaban again.  
  
His steps carried him north, to Hogwarts. He knew that much knowledge could be found there and also a certain intriguing pair of dark eyes. 


	7. Back at Hogwarts

Back in Hogwarts  
  
Minerva was glad to be back. Glad to have made it back before the end of term, so she could see all the students off. It was a relief to be able to look in at Albus in his office, instead of having to report her return to Umbridge. Albus was a bit depressed and it needed all of Minerva's skills at comforting to return the usual twinkle to his eyes.  
  
It seemed that Harry had been very upset and Albus blamed himself for everything that had gone wrong these past years, especially during the last few months. Minerva cured him from that belief with a number of choice words, reminding him that he might be the greatest living wizard, but that he was human nonetheless. Using her walking stick as an extension of her forefinger, Minerva brought Albus back to earth.  
  
'I am glad to have you back, Minerva!' Albus exclaimed. Smiling, he added: 'No one can put me in my place as well as you can, especially, when you've got a walking stick to help you.'  
  
Her lips twitched upwards, as she set the tip of the walking stick back onto the floor. 'It is always a pleasure.' Remembering Gandalf, she asked. 'By the way, did Severus report the incident to you? The one of a wizard breaking through the wards of Hogwarts?'  
  
At once Albus' face turned solemn. 'Yes. He also told me that the wizard escaped Azkaban four hours ago. Do you think he will come here?'  
  
'I cannot say. But I daresay he might. Though I don't think that he means to harm anyone of us, well, maybe he'd want to get at Umbridge-'  
  
'Who would not? However, what I really would like to know is why he came here.'  
  
'I wanted to see the Lady of the castle.' A voice behind them said.  
  
They whirled around and saw Gandalf, leaning on his staff, his white robes gleaming, and a twinkle in his eye. Minerva stifled a gasp and felt Albus beside her stiffen. The headmaster could by no means be pleased that this wizard had actually managed to break into his office. It was a rather unsettling thought, Minerva decided, as she watched the white wizard warily.  
  
'That surely cannot be the case, as you did not even know of me before you first came here.' She told him matter of factly.  
  
'Oh yes!' Gandalf replied, as if she had just told him something very novel, and went on. 'Of course, you want to know why I came the first time!'  
  
'Exactly.' Albus replied grimly. Minerva could feel the air around him thickening, as he readied himself for a possible attack from Gandalf's side.  
  
'Well, I was inside the rock beneath this castle for many years, waiting for the right time to emerge. When the time finally came, I followed the passageways in the stone, till I reached the little cave where you keep your boats. What happened next, you already know.' His account was mercifully brief and to the point, Minerva thought, as she examined him to see any signs that hinted of his recent encounter with Dementors. He seemed unfazed. 


	8. Phoenix

Phoenix  
  
The two wizards continued talking. As he exchanged words with the wizard before him, Gandalf wondered if that was Minerva McGonagall's husband and what had happened to put the straight-backed witch into the need of a walking stick. Then he admonished himself for letting his mind wander. Before he thought any more about the witch, he had to convince the powerful wizard in front of him that he meant well.  
  
'What is your name?' Albus asked.  
  
'I am Gandalf the White, servant of the Secret Fire and wielder of the flame of Anor, once Bearer of Narya the Great, one of the three Elven Rings, also known as Mithrandir and the White Rider. Who asks?'  
  
'Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Member of the Order of Merlin-' Albus Dumbledore broke off his enumeration and suddenly changed tack completely. 'Ah, but I have just realised that you must be tired after your swift journey from Azkaban! Please be seated.' Then, taking some toffees from his desk, he presented them to Gandalf. 'Lemon drop?'  
  
Considering it a peace offer, Gandalf accepted. Albus popped one of the sweets into his own mouth and sat down too. Minerva McGonagall was already seated and was watching the proceedings with a detached air. Dumbledore offered her no lemon drop, he seemed to know she did not approve of them.  
  
With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore now also conjured up some tea, a cup for each of them, a bowl of sugar and a jug of milk. This Dumbledore really knew how to make serious discussions as comfortable as possible, Gandalf decided, sipping at his tea and stealing a look at Minerva McGonagall, who was just then adding some milk to her beverage.  
  
'So, you said you have much to do with fire?' Dumbledore chuckled softly. 'I see know, why Fawkes did not object to your company.'  
  
'Fawkes?' Gandalf inquired.  
  
Dumbledore motioned to the beautiful bird with feathers the colour of fire, which had been in the office all this time and seemed to listen very intently to what was being said. Now it cocked its head to meet Gandalf's eye, ruffling its feathers a bit. Dumbledore chuckled again.  
  
'Fawkes is never wrong, so much I have learned during the long years he has kept me company. Still, my curiosity is by no means satisfied, nor is that of Minerva, I am sure. Pray, tell us more about you.'  
  
And so it came that they passed that afternoon together, Gandalf telling his story and describing them what the world had been like many thousands of years ago, when elves still roamed the lands, dwarves delved in the mountains, ents walked the forests and hobbits, orcs, oliphaunts and uruk- hai wandered on its plains and in its forests, and the Great War of the Ring was fought, till it was finally won at Minas Tirith.  
  
The tale lasted long into the night, and the moon was setting again already when he finally came to an end. His two hearers seemed very pleased with the story and appeared to be just as astonished as he was when they discovered how far the night had advanced. Minerva McGonagall offered to show Gandalf his room, and so they left Dumbledore's office together, wishing him good night.  
  
She then led him at an exceedingly swift pace along the corridors of the castle. The walking stick seemed to be superfluous, for she only tapped it lightly at the stone flags beneath their feet. As soon as he had come to this conclusion, however, he witnessed her battle with a strong wave of pain.  
  
Her knuckles turned white as she clutched the stick, leaning very heavily onto it, her other hand gripping the robes at her throat spasmodically. Before he could move to help her, however, she had recovered. A faint smile appeared on her features when she saw his troubled look.  
  
'No need to worry, Mr. Gandalf, the healers at St. Mungo's warned me that this would continue to happen for a few days, as the energy of the stunners still lingers in my body.'  
  
'What happened?' Gandalf asked, knowing nothing of the four stunners the Ministry agents had sent towards McGonagall only four days ago.  
  
She told him what had happened, her whole demeanour cool and collected, while Gandalf felt anger surge up in him. What foul behaviour! What dishonourable conduct!  
  
'I cannot say how much the foolery of these men angers me.' He said earnestly. 'They deserve the severest punishment!'  
  
The witch at his side only made a vague dismissive gesture with her free hand. 'I agree with you, Mr. Gandalf, but let us not bother about these men anymore. I would rather know how you have fared these past three days?'  
  
'Oh, quite well, although Azkaban is a fell keep. I would not go there again by choice. Prisoners with black hearts and soulless guards make for a foul prison, where even the few guarding wizards are barely human. When I received notice that the Ministry would keep me there four years, if it could, I thought it better to leave.' He told her with dry humour.  
  
Although she did not smile, Gandalf felt no disapproval coming from her. All the same, he wished she smiled more. Then he saw her wince and surmised that despite her previous comment, her wounds were still hurting her considerably. He refrained from mentioning the stunners, however, and instead walked by her side quietly.  
  
She didn't say much more during their journey through the castle. She didn't really strike him as someone who talked a lot, and this evening must have been very tiring for her. She only spoke again after she'd come to a halt in front of a painting. The portrait of an elderly scholar with a goatee greeted them with a smile on his thin lips.  
  
'This is Professor Emmerings. Professor, this is Mr. Gandalf, he will reside in the rooms you guard for a while.' McGonagall introduced the two to each other, then added: 'The password to the rooms is 'Hey diddle diddle'. Good Night, Mr. Gandalf, Professor.'  
  
The two wished her a good night and then faced each other curiously. 'So you convinced Dumbledore, eh?' Professor Emmerings said.  
  
Gandalf couldn't help a small smile. 'Yes, I suppose I did. And rumours spread in this castle as fast as in the Shire!'  
  
'You have no idea!' The professor exclaimed, then scrunched up his brow, 'though I do not know the Shire you are referring to and therefore cannot actually tell.'  
  
'Never mind.' Gandalf replied. 'Well, I should really like to chat some more with you, but it is late and I am tired and I would like to retire into my rooms.'  
  
'Just tell me the password, and I will let you in.' Professor Emmerings said warmly.  
  
Gandalf didn't argue that the professor must have witnessed his arrival with McGonagall and therefore ought to know that he could just let him inside. He only said: 'Hey diddle diddle.'  
  
Only minutes later, he was fast asleep, sprawled across a wide, soft bed. 


	9. Hey diddle diddle

Hey diddle diddle  
  
Minerva mulled over Gandalf's story, as she led him along the corridors of the castle at a swift pace. She was glad of the walking stick, as it gave her a sense of security and took some of the weight off her wobbly feet. In the past two days, she had mastered the art of using the stick so that it seemed as if she didn't really need it, but that did not alter the fact that she couldn't get on without it yet.  
  
They had nearly reached Gandalf's rooms, when a strong wave of pain coming from her chest rushed over her. Her one hand grasped the stick, and she leant heavily on the wood, while her other hand gripped the robes at her throat spasmodically as she fought to keep in control. Soon, the worst of the pain was over, and she came aware of a troubled looking Gandalf moving to assist her.  
  
Smiling faintly, she assured him that he wasn't to worry. 'The healers at St. Mungo's warned me that this would continue to happen for a few days, as the energy of the stunners still lingers in my body.'  
  
'What happened?' He asked, of course he didn't know of the four stunners that had been sent at her when she had tried to help Hagrid.  
  
She told him what had happened, careful to hide her feelings of shame and humiliation when she remembered how easily the Ministry agents had gotten rid of her. To her astonishment, she saw a spark of anger appear in his eyes.  
  
It became clear against whom his anger was directed, as he spoke earnestly. 'I cannot say how much the foolery of these men angers me. They deserve the severest punishment!'  
  
His words warmed her, but she only made a vague dismissive gesture with her free hand. 'I agree with you, Mr. Gandalf, but let us not bother about these men anymore. I would rather know how you have fared these past three days?' In truth, she was very curious to know why he hadn't left Azkaban earlier. She never doubted that he could break through its wards easily.  
  
'Oh, quite well, although Azkaban is a fell keep. I would not go there again by choice. Prisoners with black hearts and soulless guards make for a foul prison, where even the few guarding wizards are barely human. When I received notice that the Ministry would keep me there four years, if it could, I thought it better to leave.' She liked his dry humour, she thought, as she tried to imagine the reactions his behaviour might have caused in Azkaban.  
  
She gave no comment on his story, but led him silently on. Now and then, pain stabbed at her, and she had to keep iron control so her companion would not notice. She felt his kindly gaze on her every now and then, and she had the feeling he guessed she was still in pain, though he refrained from mentioning it and walked by her side quietly.  
  
They walked on in silence. Neither of them saying another word till they finally arrived at his rooms. Then she introduced Gandalf to Professor Emmering. 'This is Professor Emmerings. Professor, this is Mr. Gandalf, he will reside in the rooms you guard for a while. The password to the rooms is 'Hey diddle diddle'. Good Night, Mr. Gandalf, Professor.' She added, then left, wishing more than ever for some sleep. This day had quite tired her out.  
  
-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-  
  
The following morning and afternoon she spent teaching. She wondered what Gandalf was doing, thinking he must be rather bored. After her last course at four o'clock, she went to visit him. Professor Emmerings was not in his frame, but she could hear him talking on the other side of the door. He was chatting with Gandalf! The corner of Minerva's mouth twitched: The white wizard had found someone to pass the time with.  
  
She raised her hand to knock, but then hesitated. She did not want to disturb the two who seemed to enjoy talking with each other. So, she let her arm sink and walked off. She had not taken more than four or five steps, when she heard Gandalf call her back. 'Professor McGonagall!'  
  
Surprised, she turned to face him. 'How did you know I was here?'  
  
'Magic.' He said, dead-pan. 'Why didn't you knock?'  
  
'I didn't want to disturb your little chat with Professor Emmerings. I heard your voices talking.' She informed him truthfully.  
  
'And why should you not join us?' he didn't expect her to answer that question, but went on directly. 'Come on in, lady.'  
  
She raised an eyebrow to him. 'Witches are not addressed as 'ladies' nowadays.'  
  
'More's the pity.' He grinned, helping her into a comfortable armchair. 'Would you like some tea?'  
  
'Oh yes', she assured him, her features brightening. She looked forward to a hot cup of fine tea.  
  
In no time, they were seated cosily, both of them with a steaming cup of tea before them. Minerva relaxed a bit, resting her chin in her hand, her elbow resting on the arm of her chair. Gandalf literally sprawled in his chair, and, pulling a strange, long pipe from his robes, he asked: 'May I?'  
  
Minerva nodded and Gandalf concentrated on the slow business of lighting a pipe and smoking it. After a while he had the pipe glowing wonderfully and began making rings of smoke and also the shapes of ships and other things. Minerva watched, fascinated. She had not known what wonderful images could be created from mere pipe smoke.  
  
Once, between a sailing ship and an especially long-lived ring of smoke, Gandalf smiled at her, his bright blue eyes twinkling. Quite automatically, she smiled back and kept the smile for some time, till she realised what she was doing and, after sipping at her tea, returned her features to their usual, neutral expression.  
  
It was Gandalf who finally broke their comfortable silence. 'So, how did you get rid of Mrs Umbridge? I must say I'm a bit curious about that.'  
  
Minerva couldn't deny that the story provided her with devious pleasure. 'A brilliant student at our school led her into the Forbidden Forest where a young giant and a herd of centaurs dealt with her. Of course, we couldn't leave the woman there, so Albus fetched her from the Forest a short while ago. She is rather worse for the wear.'  
  
'You don't seem to mind.'  
  
'I don't. Dolores Umbridge has done a lot of damage and wrought great havoc at Hogwarts. I am glad she received some punishment.' Minerva scowled, the memories of Umbridge that were now resurfacing darkening her mood.  
  
'But surely she wasn't really in control? At least, she didn't seem to be when I encountered both her and you in the cave harbour.' Gandalf enquired.  
  
'Oh no!' Minerva told him of all the mischief students, especially the Weasley twins, staff and Peeves had done, making Umbridge's life very unpleasant indeed.  
  
Gandalf chuckled as he heard of all the mischief that had been done in Hogwarts. He was very interested in the fireworks of the Weasley twins and asked her so many questions that she finally promised to show him their shop in Diagon Alley, where he'd be able to talk to Fred and George personally, at which Gandalf could not suppress a boyish grin.  
  
Then it was time to go to the Great Hall where dinner was served. Gandalf led Minerva to the door (he himself would eat in his rooms, as Dumbledore didn't want to advertise Gandalf's presence at Hogwarts), and surprised her by kissing her hand before letting her go on her way. Slightly bewildered but also pleased, Minerva took her leave, her skin tingling from the contact Gandalf's lips had made with it. 


	10. Chess

Chess  
  
Gandalf spent the day talking nine to the dozen with Professor Emmerings. The discussion with the scholar did not hinder him from noticing McGonagall's presence outside his rooms. She stopped by, but then went off again. Unwilling to let her go like that, he rushed to the door and called her name.  
  
Surprised, she turned to face him. 'How did you know I was here?'  
  
'Magic.' He said and took the chance to ask her: 'Why didn't you knock?'  
  
'I didn't want to disturb your little chat with Professor Emmerings. I heard your voices talking.' She told him, her expression too smooth to read.  
  
'And why should you not join us?' he replied, barely hiding his exasperation. 'Come on in, lady.'  
  
One of her dark eyebrow rose. 'Witches are not addressed as 'ladies' nowadays.'  
  
'More's the pity.' He grinned, helping her into a comfortable armchair. 'Would you like some tea?'  
  
'Oh yes', she answered enthusiastically.  
  
She had no objection to him smoking his pipe, and so they were soon seated comfortably, both with some tea and he with his pipe. The witch opposite wearing an expression that was almost dreamy, her chin resting in her hand, her elbow on the arm of her chair. He himself was relaxing thoroughly, spread all over his chair.  
  
He couldn't resist smiling at her, the pleasant combination of a good smoke, good tea and pretty company were weaving their spell around him. Her too, for she smiled back, the black ice of her eyes shining as if a ray of sunlight had struck it, making it suddenly rather difficult for him to breathe normally. He was glad he was sitting, for his knees had gone rather weak. However, the smile passed as soon as it had come. When she had taken a swig of tea, her expression was neutral again.  
  
Finally, he broke the silence. 'So, how did you get rid of Mrs Umbridge? I must say I'm a bit curious about that.'  
  
There definitely was a devious spark in her eyes as she answered. 'A brilliant student at our school led her into the Forbidden Forest where a young giant and a herd of centaurs dealt with her. Of course, we couldn't leave the woman there, so Albus fetched her from the Forest a short while ago. She is rather worse for the wear.'  
  
'You don't seem to mind.'  
  
'I don't. Dolores Umbridge has done a lot of damage and wrought great havoc at Hogwarts. I am glad she received some punishment.' To his dismay, her features darkened considerably.  
  
In an effort to lighten her mood somewhat, he asked. 'But surely she wasn't really in control? At least, she didn't seem to be when I encountered both her and you in the cave harbour.'  
  
'Oh no!' She replied and told him how the school had made Umbridge's life miserable.  
  
Gandalf chuckled, and when he heard of the fireworks some of the students had created, he questioned her so thoroughly that she offered to introduce him to the inventive students. He grinned delightedly and couldn't resist the temptation to kiss her hand when she left. She was surprised, but didn't seem to mind. Gandalf watched walk down the corridor, his lips yearning to touch her smooth, cool skin again.  
  
'Ah-ha!' Professor Emmering's voice slyly said behind him. 'So you took a liking to Minerva McGonagall.'  
  
Gandalf smiled at the portrait ruefully. 'Am I so obvious?'  
  
'Rather!' Was the reply. 'Did you really think I wouldn't notice how you flirted with her?'  
  
The word flirting was not in Gandalf's vocabulary, but he could guess exactly what Emmerings meant by it. 'I was under the impression that I was quite subtle.' He defended himself.  
  
Emmerings snorted. 'Nonsense! If Minerva were slightly more attentive, she'd have caught on your little game long ago! So, what will your next step be?'  
  
Gandalf shook his head at the portrait, amused. 'Contrary to what you may think, I'm no schemer. I prefer to improvise.'  
  
Professor Emmerings didn't look very convinced as he said: 'Of course. By the way, your dinner has arrived.'  
  
Gandalf thanked him and went inside to enjoy a sumptuous meal. Afterwards, he waited for McGonagall to pay him another visit, but in vain. A whole day elapsed before she stood at his door again, this time with a game of chess under her arm.  
  
'Do you play chess?' She asked as a greeting.  
  
He nodded and held the door open for her. 'I do. Please come in and have a seat.'  
  
Hours of silence passed, both of them concentrating on the game between them. Soon Gandalf (who was smoking his pipe to help him think) had to realise that he was no match for the woman opposite him. He did play chess and was quite good at it, but Minerva McGonagall was an excellent chess player and won the game after about two hours.  
  
With a content expression on her face, McGonagall leant back in her chair. 'It was a good game.'  
  
Gandalf hid his smile behind a puff of pipe smoke. 'Unfortunately, I was no match for you. This must have been a very easy match for you.'  
  
She gave that some thought. 'There are more skilled adversaries, but to win this game was by no means easy.'  
  
'So much for my wounded pride!' He joked, eliciting an answering twinkle in her eye.  
  
'Well, it is a relief to know that you have a weak point or two. Thinking of the way you can just walk in and out of Hogwarts or Azkaban.' She retorted tartly.  
  
'I hope you are not too much in awe of me because of that!' He said dismissively. 'I needed years of bottling up magical energy inside me before I had enough power. In addition to that, living in the same castle as Albus Dumbledore should have made you used to powerful wizards. You aren't that bad yourself, you know. Which reminds me: I once asked if all Patronuses took on the shape of a cat. You didn't answer.'  
  
McGonagall pursed her lips. 'I was preoccupied at the time. No, every Person has a specific Patronus suited to their inner predispositions. In my case, both my Patronus and my animagus form are cats.'  
  
'Animagus form?'  
  
'I can change myself into a cat and back at will. Transfigurations are my speciality.'  
  
'Impressing!' Gandalf was sufficiently awed. 'I never learnt the art of shape shifting, though I always thought it was fascinating.'  
  
'It is difficult but rewarding.' McGonagall told him, sitting up and putting the chess figures back into their case.  
  
Gandalf lent her a hand and so the little task was done in no time. Briskly, she stood up, 'it is time to go for me, Mr. Gandalf,-'  
  
'Not Mr. Gandalf', he interrupted her, 'Gandalf is my first name. If you don't mind, we could stay on first name terms from now on?'  
  
'Yes, why not?' Minerva nodded. 'I will visit you again tomorrow evening, Gandalf, good night!'  
  
He wished her good night and watched her slip through the door with an agility that belied the injuries she'd sustained. He looked forward to tomorrow already. 


	11. Fireworks

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad you all like the story. It's my first romance and I'm really nervous about botching it up. Unfortunately, there are only very few chapters left. Precisely four. Hope you like those as well as the ones before!  
  
Cheers,  
  
Lady Whight  
  
.  
  
Fireworks  
  
It was no surprise to her that he suggested they address each other by their first names. For one, she had realised already that he liked to surprise those around him and therefore knew to expect anything, secondly, they were getting along so well that this new development was quite normal. Yet, she had to suppress a tiny smile as she walked to her rooms.  
  
The next day was exhausting. She had to shepherd around students, help them find pets, clothes, books or any other items that they had lost, and make sure the carriages with the thestrals would arrive on time next morning. When she finally sat down at the staff table in the Great Hall, Peeves the Poltergeist had the cheek to snatch her walking stick from her.  
  
'I would have liked to see her off.' She remarked sternly, when Peeves returned the stick to her.  
  
He cackled with laughter and began to chant: 'Toady Dolly needed some whacks, so I had to lend your stick!' Before whizzing off, out of her reach, still chanting.  
  
She didn't have the energy to go after him and decided to forget the event and tuck in instead. The end of term feast was glorious as usual, and the food wonderful. At the end of the meal she was sufficiently revived to undertake the journey to Gandalf's room. Gallant as always, he held the door open for her and helped her into her chair.  
  
'You look tired.' He observed quietly, pouring her some tea.  
  
'The last day of term is always especially exhausting.' She replied, 'I'm sure you'll be glad to hear that from tomorrow evening on, you will be free to leave these rooms.'  
  
'Great!' Gandalf exclaimed. 'I hope we will be able to meet more often, too?'  
  
'We've seen each other daily. Surely you don't mean to say we don't meet often enough?' She asked, taken aback.  
  
'I do.' Gandalf firmly replied. 'We ought to meet more.'  
  
Minerva nearly grinned when she saw his determined expression. 'As you say, Master Wizard.' She said dryly. 'What about a visit to Diagon Alley tomorrow afternoon? I daresay the Weasley twins will enjoy explaining the merits of their fireworks to you.'  
  
His face brightened at once. 'I would like that a lot!'  
  
'Well, that's settled then.'  
  
-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-  
  
They went to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in the early afternoon the next day. Fred and George seemed to be doing excruciatingly well; their shop was packed with customers and the two brothers were darting this way and that, pulling all kinds of articles out of the racks stacked with material.  
  
One of the twins, George, if she was not mistaken, spotted her and stared. Then he nudged Fred, who looked up. His eyes widened as soon as he saw her. She saw him mouth her name with an expression of total disbelief, then the twins rushed up to her.  
  
'Professor McGonagall! What induced you to set foot in a JOKE shop?' Fred spluttered.  
  
'Ours, especially.' Added George, looking puzzled.  
  
Both of them realised she was leaning on her walking stick and George got her a stool while Fred asked her anxiously if her turning up at their shop was a sign that the stunners had affected her mind.  
  
This, Minerva could deny and she introduced them to Gandalf and told them he was very interested in their fireworks. 'I hope one of you can spare the time to show him your fireworks.'  
  
'Of course!' George replied and turned to his brother. 'Fred, you can take over the rest of our guests while I show Mr. Gandalf our fireworks.'  
  
Fred bowed low. 'Thank you, exalted brother, for appointing me this task!'  
  
'My pleasure, entirely.' George quipped and tugged Gandalf off to the back of their shop.  
  
Fred left too, leaving Minerva to herself. He did find a moment to present her with a fine cup of hot tea.  
  
An hour later they left, Gandalf carrying scores of fireworks. George and he had talked a lot about the making and storage of fireworks and when he had bought a Catherine wheel or two, George had added a great many other items, saying that Gandalf had packed him with so much information that it was only fair to repay him with a rocket or two.  
  
Back at Hogwarts, they first brought the fireworks to Gandalf's rooms, then went for a walk round the lake. Minerva told him of the squid and Gandalf informed her of the role that same animal had played during the war of the ring.  
  
'It must be ancient.' Minerva exclaimed. 'Even older than you.'  
  
She heard him chuckle. 'Yes, I suppose I am old. The squid is very much older, however.'  
  
'Not that you look it.' She reassured him. 'You look no older than Albus.'  
  
Quite unexpectedly, he grasped her hand. Looking up, she met his bright eyes that were fixed on her face. His expression a mixture of exasperation, amusement and flame.  
  
'Never mind how old I look.' He told her firmly. 'Do you like what you see?'  
  
She was taken back a bit at his directness. Cautiously, she answered. 'I do, why shouldn't I?'  
  
The mischievous smile was back on his face. 'Trust you to find a way to make your answer sound unimportant and my question foolish.'  
  
Her heart skipped a beat; she loved this smile of his! 'If you want better answers, ask me better questions.'  
  
'As you wish, Lady Minerva.' She felt his hand tighten its grip around her own and his gaze never wavered. 'Does your blood tingle like mine does when we are together?'  
  
A very bold question, Minerva decided. 'As I don't know how much your blood tingles, I can't safely answer that question.' She told him coolly. 


	12. By The Lake

By The Lake  
  
Gandalf sighed. The cool mask was back, just as everything had gone so well. It had begun when they had started talking about the squid and how old it was, then about how old Gandalf was. When Minerva had said that he looked younger than he was, he had decided to take a chance and had grasped her hand.  
  
He yearned to know if she felt for him as he felt for her. He wished to know if beneath her coolness there was the same warm feeling of love for him as he had for her. Some of his emotions he let show in his eyes as he looked her in the dark eyes and asked in a voice as firm as he could manage:  
  
'Never mind how old I look. Do you like what you see?'  
  
His question had been a bit direct, but she didn't admonish him for it. Her answer, however, was very reserved. 'I do, why shouldn't I?'  
  
This was so very much like her, that he couldn't help smiling. 'Trust you to find a way to make your answer sound unimportant and my question foolish.'  
  
Was that a spark of mirth in her eye as she answered? 'If you want better answers, ask me better questions.'  
  
Was she actually joining in the little game? He tightened his grip around her hand and his eyes didn't leave hers for a moment. 'As you wish, Lady Minerva.' Boldly, he asked the first question that came to his mind. 'Does your blood tingle like mine does when we are together?'  
  
And knew at once that it had been a mistake. Her eyes lost their warmth and the cool mask she had shed for a short while slipped back onto her face. 'As I don't know how much your blood tingles, I can't safely answer that question.'  
  
He looked into her black eyes, as impenetrable and smooth as ice. She met his gaze steadily, not a muscle in her face twitched as she waited for him to explain himself. Her hand still lay in his, she had not pulled it away from him, which must be a good sign. He raised her hand to his lips and touched the cool knuckles. 'Pardon my bold words, Minerva, I did not think.'  
  
The ice thawed very slightly. 'Yes, you sometimes do that.' A tiny smile curled her lips, 'shall we go inside again?'  
  
He would have agreed to anything she said when confronted with that delicate smile. He smiled down at her and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. 'If it pleases you, Minerva.'  
  
Together they walked along the shore of the lake back inside the castle. The journey passed smoothly, till another fit of pain seized Minerva just as they reached the foot of the stairs leading up to the entrance door. Suddenly her hand on his arm clenched together painfully, making him look down on her in astonishment. When he saw her frown and the way her lips were pressed together in an ever thinner line, he knew the hurt must be excruciating.  
  
Quickly, he helped sit down on the steps in front of them and then grasped her hands to draw some of her pain into himself, but she wrenched her hands away from him, sending him a stern and proud look. Clearly she would not have him feel the pains she went through. Gandalf sighed, the stubborn woman with the black eyes that drew him to her refused to let him help and her obvious pain troubled him.  
  
'I could relieve you of some of your pain, Minerva.'  
  
She shook her head. 'I do not want you to endure the hurt in my place. Believe me, I am well capable of dealing with it. I do appreciate your concern, however.' The pain was already passing again, he could see it by the way her frame relaxed slowly.  
  
'How long till those fits will come no more?' He asked, worried.  
  
'They should stop bothering me in about four days, the healers told me. If not, I must return to St. Mungo's.' Her eyes honest and clear as she met his gaze.  
  
'I hope they will pass sooner. Are you well enough to climb the stairs?'  
  
'Yes. Thank you.' Minerva replied briskly and stood with his help. 


	13. Sweet

Sweet  
  
She saw a shadow pass over his eyes as he realised that he had made a mistake. He raised her hand to his lips and touched the cool knuckles. 'Pardon my bold words, Minerva, I did not think.'  
  
The apology seemed very sincere and she didn't even think of not accepting it. 'Yes, you sometimes do that.' She couldn't help smiling, 'shall we go inside again?'  
  
The smile he sent back at her warmed her whole being. She let him tuck her hand into the crook of his elbow. 'If it pleases you, Minerva.'  
  
They walked back to the castle slowly. Minerva felt very good and so the wave of pain that rushed over her took her by surprise. She could not help but cling to Gandalf's arm, no doubt hurting him. He did not complain, however, but helped her sit onto one of the steps of the stair, his eyes full of worry.  
  
Then his expression turned purposeful and he reached for her hands. She guessed what he was up to at once, although she couldn't fathom what spell he needed to do it. Quickly, she snatched back her hands, sending him a stern look. She didn't want him to help her like that. His bright blue eyes showing her how troubled he was, he sighed and said:  
  
'I could relieve you of some of your pain, Minerva.'  
  
She shook her head. 'I do not want you to endure the hurt in my place. Believe me, I am well capable of dealing with it. I do appreciate your concern, however.' To her relief, her body stopped hurting so much, and talking wasn't difficult.  
  
'How long till those fits will come no more?' She treasured the look that was in his eyes as he spoke.  
  
'They should stop bothering me in about four days, the healers told me. If not, I must return to St. Mungo's.' She replied honestly.  
  
'I hope they will pass sooner. Are you well enough to climb the stairs?' He asked.  
  
'Yes. Thank you.' She answered and let him help her up.  
  
He nearly carried her up the stairs, his hand under her arm was strong and wiry. 'We will go to my rooms and play chess.' He stated.  
  
Minerva suppressed a grin, he seemed to think that she had over-exerted herself showing him the Weasley twins' shop and then walking near the lake, and was determined to have her rest more. 'Even if that means you will loose again?' She quipped, not able to restrain herself.  
  
'Yes.' He replied firmly. 'If I can hinder you from hurting by loosing at chess, I will loose.'  
  
Minerva's mouth opened in a silent 'o' and she heard her blood pound loudly in her ears suddenly. Had he just said that? Sweet. Before he saw her open mouth, she snapped it shut. He smiled down at her and she smiled back, how could she stay cool and detached when he was so kind and charming?  
  
As if in a dream, she saw his free arm lift, his hand floating towards her temple. They were no longer walking, but stood rooted to the spot, facing each other, only his hand moved with sweet slowness. For a quick moment, no longer than it would take for a eyelash to move down and up again, his hand stopped, then it bridged the last gap between her and him, the backs of his fingers touching her temple lightly, just like the wings of a butterfly.  
  
Gently, ever so gently, his fingers passed downwards, over her cheekbone, cheek, the line of her chin, their touch so light, they might have been the touch of his breath. His blue eyes watched her all the while, too tender for words, his smile a caress. She could not, would not blink, and gazed back into his eyes, unable and unwilling to break from their blue light.  
  
Her hand reach out of its own will for his hand, which now fell ever so slowly back to his side. She caught it before it had retreated too far and held it, her thumb caressing his knuckles. His hand was warm, dry and now wrapped round her fingers firmly, to raise them to his lips.  
  
'My lady.' He whispered, pressing his lips on her knuckles. She was enchanted. 


	14. Charmed

Charmed  
  
He led her through the corridors of Hogwarts, berating himself. Obviously, the excursion to Diagon Alley combined with their walk round the lake had tired her out so much that she was vulnerable to those strong fits of pain. 'We will go to my rooms and play chess.' He told her firmly.  
  
Her voice was light and thrilled his heart, as she replied. 'Even if that means you will loose again?'  
  
'Yes.' Was his answer. 'If I can hinder you from hurting by loosing at chess, I will loose.' He added.  
  
She did not reply, and so he looked down at her after a moment, to see what her reaction was. Her eyes shone happily. Had he finally found the right words to reach her? His feelings for her swept over him and he could not help smiling. Minerva smiled back and to Gandalf it seemed as if time stopped at her smile.  
  
He did not know how it happened, but all at once they were no longer walking, but standing across from each other, their eyes locked, the black shards of her eyes burning into him. His hand was at her temple, he did not know when he had lifted it, when he had reached towards her with it and now it floated just a hair's breath from her skin. And then he touched her, tracing the cool skin reverently, so smooth and beloved.  
  
Yet, when he had kissed her temple, her cheekbone, cheek and the curved line of her chin with his fingers, he broke contact reluctantly, his fingertips lingering for a short moment on the side of her chin before drifting away from it. Before it got lost entirely, her hand anchored it to her. Her hand held his lightly, her thumb gently tracing his knuckles.  
  
Minerva's eyes watched him, unblinking, as her touch sent a shiver up his arm and straight into his heart, where it reverberated and made his blood pound. He folded his fingers around her hand and raised it to his lips, wishing to show his enchantress how much he treasured her again and again. The words left his mouth without him thinking of it. They were just right.  
  
'My lady.'  
  
Then he drew her to him, the black-haired, black-eyed witch who held his heart and held her in his turn, wrapping his arms around her erect form, relishing in the feel of her arms closing round his waist and her body snuggling against his.  
  
'Gandalf?' She asked, her voice muffled.  
  
'Yes, my love?'  
  
'It won't work.  
  
'What?!' Dismayed, Gandalf gripped handfuls of her robe with his hands, as if he could hinder her from leaving him that way.  
  
Her face turned up to his, she was smiling. 'Our age difference is too great.'  
  
He fought amusement and exasperation, but could not fend off both for long. 'Minerva! How could you scare me so?'  
  
'Easily.' She replied smugly. 'I thought you would be so relieved afterwards, that you would kiss me finally.'  
  
He chuckled, 'all you had to do was ask.' Before she could answer, he sealed her mouth with a kiss.  
  
.  
  
THE END 


End file.
